Rough Deal (Coming Home to the Mountain)

Graham and I give one another a hard look. Graham seems to understand that how I care about Prairie is bigger than that. Different. More.

She’s not just some girl I helped.

Truth is, she's the woman who's saving me.

6

PRAIRIE

By the time I’ve finished explaining my story to Leila, the social worker assigned to me, I’m exhausted. I take a sip of water as she presses stop on her recording device.

“Prairie, I want to thank you so much for your vulnerability. You’re an incredibly strong woman. That's the biggest thing I want you to leave this room knowing today. You are a survivor.”

“I know,” I tell her. “I feel like a survivor. I don't feel like a victim.”

Her eyes are soft as she looks at me. She's only been with me for a few hours. But in that short amount of time, I feel like she has gotten a good idea of what I've been through.

My days were pretty redundant so there were not a lot of details I needed to explain. I woke up, played the part of Marjorie and Horace’s daughter and I went to bed. There were some days that were worse, but for the most part, it was a lot of the same. They never hurt me, never touched me—it was the chain and the monotony that made it so horrific.

“Doesn’t seem like they're going to make me go to jail or anything for killing him,” I say.

Leila shakes her head. “You've already spoken with the officers and the scene at the house corroborates everything you’ve shared.”

“It feels weird that I could do that. And then just not get in trouble.”

“You were defending yourself after years of being held against your will. Thankfully, you were able to get out of a horrific situation. And strangely enough, Horace was obsessed with chronicling so much of what you've been through on surveillance cameras.”

I knew he had video cameras around the house, but I never imagined that they would be used to help prove my story.

Leila puts her recorder in her tote bag and reaches for her jacket.

“So what happens to me next?” I ask.

“Well, it's probably been one of the longer days of your life,” she says. “It's already

after 10 o'clock at night and you've been in this hospital room for so long. Thankfully, I can say with complete confidence you are handling this all very well, and the doctors who have seen you today say you have no concerns physically. You're in strong spirits and your mental faculties are completely intact. You are brave and you are so strong.”

I exhale, feeling relieved to have her say all of that, confirming what I already felt inside.

“I live here in Home,” Leila tells me. “So I will be able to get in touch with you tomorrow and hopefully every day for the next few weeks as we figure out the next steps for you.”

I listen to her, still not quite knowing what that means for me right now.

“But what we need to decide now is where you want to be tonight. There is one option of staying here at the clinic. You could stay here for a week or even longer until we set you up in an apartment through social services. Another option, of course, is the local bed and breakfast. Not sure how comfortable you feel about staying somewhere on your own right now.”

I shake my head. “No, I don't want to do either of those things.”

“Okay,” Leila says slowly. “What do you want, Prairie?”

“Is Rye still here? Rye Rough?”

Leila nods. “Yes. He's been in the lobby all day. Interrogating the nurses and the doctors and the officers about every 15 minutes, wanting an update.”

I smile softly. “Do you know him?’ I ask her. “You said you live here in Home.”

She nods. “Yeah, Rye and I graduated the same year from Home Secondary School.”

“Is he as good a person as he seems?” I ask.